Structural Damage
by Enkidu07
Summary: Gratuitous h/c for LiafromBrazil's birthday.  Dean has cracked some ribs and nobody's getting close. Mid-apocalypse. Hurt!Dean.


**Title**: Structural Damage  
><strong>Author<strong>: Enkidu07  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: These characters do not belong to me.  
><strong>AN**: This is a warm birthday wish for LiafromBrazil. I miss you and our happy, happy vacation of awesome. This is unbeta'd but directly from my little Love Yeti heart. Happy Birthday!  
><strong>AN2:** PADavis and Mad Server have also written things. Because they love, too.

o0o

"Get off," Dean barks roughly.

The young nurse jerks away, eyes wide.

"Dean," Sam chides gently and then turns toward the nurse. "I'm sorry. Can I help?"

The nurse looks from Sam to Dean's scowling face. "I, uh, I have to bandage his side."

Sam holds his hand out to her slowly, like he's taming a skittish horse. "Let me. I can do it."

She looks unsure, then glances toward the teeming hallway. The looming apocalypse has doubled the normal patient load. The whole hospital is on red-alert . "Can't you just make him cooperate?"

Her naivety brings a smile to Sam's worn features. "Go. Others need your help."

She hands over the materials reluctantly but then a growl from Dean and someone yelling her name from the hallway sends her bustling out of the room.

Dean eyes Sam with the same ire as he moves closer. "You stay off too," he snarls.

Dean's emitting dangerous energy but Sam knows that it's born of exhaustion and fear.

Sam chooses to ignore it, focuses on the goal instead. "We need to get out of here. Police are all over the place and you're in no shape for a show down."

That takes the edge off of Dean's glare. He shifts experimentally, then grimaces and sucks in a breath, eyes wedged tight.

"Yeah," Sam breathes. "Doc says a couple of cracked ribs. Let me bandage your side and then I'll strap your ribs for the ride."

"Can't breathe," Dean wheezes out.

Sam places his palm lightly on Dean's chest. "You can. Relax. Slow and shallow. Come on."

Dean's rigid, fingers gripping the plastic sheets so hard it has to hurt. Sam adds a hand to his forehead, invades his bubble, mouth almost to Dean's ear. "Dean. Ease off, man. Let it out slowly. Good. Now back in."

After a few minutes, Dean turns his head, "Get off."

Sam flips back Dean's ripped shirt. The doctor has done a nice job with the stitches. Sam shuffles through the instruments and tubes on the bedside cart and uncaps some antibiotic ointment.

"You're losing your touch with the ladies, Dean," he comments as he carefully spreads the salve across Dean's lower belly and side.

Dean grunts, curls his fingers around the metal railing beside the bed.

"Easy. Looks good. Stitches are nice and tight. Maybe even strong enough the withstand you."

Sam finds some gauze and first aid tape. He covers the wound and tapes the top securely. He just tacks the bottom so that it will be easy to check the wound later. He pockets the tape and ointment and grabs a few more bandages. Then he sorts through the drawers looking for something to brace Dean's ribs.

"Aha!" There are some perks to coming to an actual hospital. He pulls out the elastic and Velcro rib brace and then pulls Dean's shirt up higher to get a look at his chest.

Dean slaps at him. "Just put it over the shirt. Let's go."

"I'm gonna tape it first. Then brace over it." Sam tears some lengths of tape and then leans over. "Here we go. Ready?"

Dean scowls at him and then clasps at Sam's bicep as Sam presses the tape along his side with steady pressure. "Good. One more." Sam winces as Dean's fingers dig into his arm.

"Good. Okay. I'm gonna feed the elastic under you." Dean shifts his hand up to Sam's shoulder, pulls up and does his best to help. Sam ignores the stream of breathless curses and clenches his teeth against his brother's smothered whimpers. Once the wrap is under Dean, he wraps it up and Velcro's it tight.

"Done. Done, Dean," Sam says shakily.

Dean is holding his breath again.

"Dean. Come on. You're good. Let it out." Sam scrubs a hand through his hair and shakes out his shoulders. He gives Dean some space to get himself under control and sorts through the room for anything else they might need.

Dean's pale and visibly shaking by the time they make it to the car.

As they hit city limits, Sam glances over. Dean's still rigid, "You okay?" Sam really should know better than to even ask.

"I'm good." Dean's tight lipped and curt, but he's keeping it together.

"Want me to go get that nurse? You two can give it another go?"

Dean rests his head back against the seat, breathes out carefully. "I have heard that orgasms are a natural pain killer."

Sam snorts and eases the car onto the interstate. "Save it. I got you enough of the good stuff to last through the apocalypse."

"That's m'boy," Dean mumbles as he drifts off.

o0o

end.


End file.
